


perfect strangers

by winterfire22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Gen, Teen Sam Winchester, a discerning viewer might find a touch of destiel chemistry because i simply cannot resist, between episodes 4 and 5, fuck john winchester all my homies hate john winchester, michael and lucifer vessel situation, missing episode, season 5, teen dad au dean winchester, this is basically a Missing Episode, written in an experimental format that might be annoying but hey i think it's neat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28056984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfire22/pseuds/winterfire22
Summary: set during season five, in the thick of the vessel problem, sam and dean run into... sam and dean. then another sam and dean. then ANOTHER sam and dean. each set of winchesters is from a different universe, but they've all been brought together for some mysterious reason that starts with a and ends with pocalypse. now the boys have to work together with their doubles, castiel, and an alternate bobby singer in order to set things right.shoutout to ao3 user theliteraltrash for inspiring this!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	perfect strangers

SEASON 5 EPISODE 4.5 “Perfect Strangers” SCENE ONE.

TEXT ON THE SCREEN: SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA 

EXT SHOT - DEAN IS HEADING TOWARD THE IMPALA, WHICH IS PARKED IN A GROCERY STORE PARKING LOT. HE HAS A SINGLE BAG OF GROCERIES IN HIS LEFT HAND, AND A SIX PACK OF BEER IN HIS RIGHT HAND. POKING OUT OF THE GROCERY BAG ARE A BAG OF PRETZELS AND A BOX OF SOME SORT OF MICROWAVEABLE FROZEN FOOD, ALONG WITH A PRE-MADE CHINESE CHICKEN SALAD. IT’S SLIGHTLY OVERCAST, BUT STILL DAYLIGHT.

HE MAKES IT TO THE IMPALA AND SETS DOWN THE BAG, AS WELL AS THE SIX PACK. HE REACHES INTO HIS POCKET FOR THE CAR KEYS.

“Hey, wait up,” a teenage boy’s voice comes from behind him. Dean doesn’t react to it, still fishing for his keys. “Hello?”

He pauses. Turns. Behind him is Sam. Not the Sam we’re used to-- a younger, smaller Sam. A fourteen or fifteen year old Sam, dressed in a navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, with a backpack hanging off his thin shoulders. Dean blinks as he gives the kid a onceover. He runs the numbers in his head. Usually, if something that seemed threatening or wrong was in front of him, he would be pointing a gun at it. But this kid, this little version of his brother, is not a sight he is able to meet with that normal kind of hunter’s caution. Even if this is some wrong thing, and it isn’t really his brother, he can’t do it. So he just stands there, looking at the kid, unsure of what he should do.

“Sam?” he hazards.

“Yeah?” the kid responds, looking up at Dean with wide blue eyes.

“Uh, cristo?” He says, one eyebrow nudging up.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Ugh, cut it out, Dean.”

“Dammit,” he mutters. “Those sons of bitches must’ve shot me back in time again. Listen, kid, you know about demons and ghosts and all that, but there’s some other freaky shit going on in the world, and they’ve shot me to the past or future once or twice before. So don’t panic, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything.”

Teenage Sam makes a face. “Huh? How could you be from the future? You’re the same age.”

Dean blinks again. “What? No, I’m Dean,” he says, as if he thinks Sam is somehow mistaking him for someone else. “I’m definitely from the future. By the looks of it, uh-- at least a decade in the future.”

“I know you’re Dean. You look exactly the same age,” Sam repeats, looking a little annoyed at this point. 

“Ha. That’s ridiculous. Listen kid, Sammy, whatever you are-- what year is it for you?”

“2009,” teenage Sam answers.

“Two thous--” Dean repeats under his breath, his eyebrows nudging up. “Um, where’s your dad?”

“That’s not funny,” Sam huffs.

Dean’s eyes narrow. He looks over Sam’s shoulder, then glances down at the ground for no real reason, then back to teenage Sam. “What the…”

“Listen, bud, ain’t I always telling you not to talk to strangers?” Dean’s own voice comes from over his shoulder. His green eyes widen, and he turns to see who it is, just as we see a second Dean walk into the frame. This Dean also looks thirty years old, with the same haircut, the same amount of stubble, and the same swagger in his bow-legged step. The only visible difference is that our Dean, the first Dean, is wearing a blue denim shirt unbuttoned over a black Led Zeppelin tee, and the second Dean is wearing a forest green plaid flannel buttoned up over a grey tee. They’re both wearing jeans, and similar brown boots.

The two Deans regard each other for a moment. Then, second Dean steps between teenage Sam and first Dean.

“What’s going on?” Teenage Sam asks uneasily.

“Dunno,” this new Dean answers, his narrowed eyes still on our Dean. “You a shapeshifter?”

“What? No, you’re the shapeshifter,” our Dean answers stupidly.

“Dean!”

All three Winchesters’ heads turn. Sam approaches, our Sam, normal Sam, twenty six year old Sam. He looks just as confused as everybody else.

“Dude, I said buzz off,” second Dean huffs in our Sam’s direction. “I don’t know you. You got me confused with someone else.”

“I’m Sam,” Sam insists, clearly frustrated. 

“You’re about three feet too tall to be Sam, my guy,” second Dean says sarcastically. He turns toward kid Sam. “Let’s get outta here. This is nothing good.”

“What’s going on?” Kid Sam demands. 

“That’s about where I’m at,” our Dean agrees.

Adult Sam lets out a huffy exhale. “You two better start talking,” he says to second Dean and kid Sam. 

“We don’t want any trouble. If you’re a skinwalker, just like, go away. One step toward the kid and I’ll waste you right here in front of everybody, I don’t give a shit,” he says to our Dean, patting his jacket pocket to imply he’s carrying. Then he glances toward adult Sam. “And whatever you’re selling, I ain’t buying, pal. C’mon, Sammy, let’s go.”

But teenage Sam doesn’t move. His eyes are still trained on first Dean, who’s staring back at him with an odd tilt of his eyes.

“You really are Dean, huh?” he asks, looking up at our Dean.

“Uh, in the flesh,” Dean says.

Teenage Sam glances back to his Dean, and the two make eye contact for a second. That Dean shakes his head. “C’mon, Sammy, whatever this is, we don’t need to get involved.”

He reaches into his pocket for his car key. Then he freezes. 

Our Dean laughs a little. He reaches his hand back into his own pocket, as if to find the real key, to rub it in second Dean’s face. But then he freezes too, exactly the same way.

“Don’t tell me you lost the key,” adult Sam and teenage Sam say at the same time.

The two Deans shoot glares at their respective Sams.

“I swear I just had it,” our Dean grunts.

“Yeah, pal, join the damn club,” second Dean says.

“So back to the who the hell are you two question,” adult Sam cuts in. 

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” teenage Sam answers.

“Don’t tell them shit, Sammy,” second Dean instructs.

“Okay,” adult Sam says. “But you two are the wrong ages.”

“Come again?”

Adult Sam glances to second Dean. “How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“He’s also thirty,” Sam says, jerking his thumb in his brother’s direction. “How old are you?” He asks teenage Sam.

“Uh, fourteen.”

“Okay. Why are both our Deans thirty, but you’re fourteen and I’m twenty-six?”

“‘Cause you ain’t Sam,” second Dean suggests.

“This is stupid. You’re both clearly Sam,” first Dean argues.

“That’s stupid,” second Dean argues back.

“I don’t think it is,” adult Sam protests. “I think we’re all who we say we are and there’s something weird going on.”

“Yeah, no shit there’s something weird going on. How are you Sam if Dean is only four years older than you? Shit, I thought I was young when I had _my_ kid,” second Dean says sarcastically.

Our Sam and Dean stare at him, Dean’s eyes wide, Sam’s jaw slack. “Come again?” Our Dean asks after a few beats. He points at his Sam. “That’s my _brother_.”

“Wait, your Dean really is your brother?” Teenage Sam asks adult Sam.

“And your Dean is…?”

“My dad,” teenage Sam answers like it’s obvious.

Our Sam and Dean both take a step away from each other, expressions of confusion and maybe disgust painting their faces. “No. Nope. Nah. What?” Dean asks.

“He’s my kid, genius, what, you need me to draw you a diagram?” Second Dean huffs. 

“You had a kid when you were sixteen?” our Dean asks, looking appalled.

“Evidently,” second Dean answers, glancing toward teenage Sam, who shrugs.

“And your dad is John Winchester?” adult Sam asks stupidly.

“Yeah.”

“How’d he… react?” our Dean asks cautiously.

“He baked me a damn cake,” second Dean snaps. “How d’you think he reacted?”

“Maybe we should go talk somewhere private and figure out what’s going on,” adult Sam suggests. “Maybe we should call Cas.”

Both Deans are about to reply when another voice comes from outside the frame, tinted with a Nebraska accent: “Scuse me, why’re y’all standin’ around my car like that?”

Everyone turns toward its source. A third Dean, dressed in cowboy boots, blue jeans with a big belt buckle, and a leather jacket, is standing there. He has small diamond earrings in his earlobes and a neat beard. By the way he’s standing and acting, he might as well be wearing a cowboy hat.

“Oh my God,” our Dean exclaims. “Another one?”

Cowboy Dean takes a shiny revolver out of his pocket and points it between the two other Deans, as if he isn’t sure who to target. Then he glances at adult Sam.

“Sam? What the hell’s goin’ on?” He asks.

“I’m not your Sam,” our Sam quickly answers. “We don’t know what’s going on.”

“Not my Sam?” Cowboy Dean repeats. 

A white pickup truck pulls into the nearest parking spot, and the driver’s side window rolls down. A third Sam leans out of it. “Hurry-- what the fuck?”

“Hey, young ears,” second Dean says, covering teenage Sam’s ears.

“Ugh, stop it, Dean,” teenage Sam huffs.

“If you’re his dad, why does he call you Dean?” our Sam asks.

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Pickup truck Sam asks, getting out of his car. He has the same longish hair as our Sam, but his is pulled back into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. He’s wearing a plaid flannel shirt and a carhartt jacket. He has a gun in his hand.

“That’s what we’re all wondering,” our Dean answers, holding his hands up. “Everybody just stay calm.”

END OF SCENE ONE.

ROLL THE TITLE CARD.

SCENE TWO.

INT SHOT - THE BOYS’ MOTEL ROOM. IT’S CLEARLY BEEN SLEPT IN ALREADY, WITH DEAN’S BED ALL MESSED UP, AND SAM’S SOMEWHAT MADE. OUR SAM AND DEAN ENTER FIRST, LEADING TEENAGE SAM, PONYTAIL SAM, COWBOY BOOTS DEAN, AND GREEN PLAID SHIRT DEAN IN AFTER THEM. EVERYONE SORT OF STANDS AROUND AWKWARDLY. THEN, OUR DEAN CLEARS HIS THROAT.

“Uh, sit down,” he suggests. There are the two beds, a couch, and two chairs at the small table. Everyone finds a seat; ponytail Sam and cowboy boots Dean at the table, our Dean and Sam on their respective beds, and the other two on the couch. Our Dean looks between the other two Deans for a moment. Then, he points his thumb at cowboy boots Dean. “I wanna know why he has the Impala.”

“Me too,” the second Dean pipes up. 

Cowboy boots Dean just shrugs. “My dad left it to me when he died,” he answers. “Only thing of his I ever really liked. Y’all have the same car?”

“Yeah, my dad gave it to me too,” our Dean answers. He glances back to the Dean on the couch. “Same with you?”

He nods.

“Guess that’s one thing all versions of the Winchester brothers have in common,” our Sam comments.

“Brothers?” The Sam with the ponytail asks, making a face. “What are you talking about?”

“You two are the only ones who’re brothers, I guess,” teenage Sam says.

“Wait, you guys aren’t brothers?”

“Nah,” cowboy boots Dean answers. “And I’m not a Winchester either.”

“I’m sorry, what?” our Dean asks.

“My mom changed my last name after her and Dad got divorced,” cowboy boots Dean elaborates. “My sister’s too. She changed it back to her maiden name. We’re Harvelles-- I was only Dean Winchester for the first seven years of my life.”

“Harvelles?” Our Sam and Dean ask at the same time.

“Ellen Harvelle is your mom?” Our Dean adds.

“Sister?” Our Sam asks.

“That’s right. My sister’s name is Jo.”

“Then who’s your… who are you?” Our Sam asks Ponytail Sam, looking almost disgusted.

“Sam Campbell,” he answers impatiently. “My mom’s Mary Campbell. I never knew my dad.”

“I-- what?” Our Sam looks toward teenage Sam, who shrugs. “So all three of us have different dads? But all the Deans have John Winchester as a dad?”

“Guess so,” second Dean answers.

Ponytail Sam stands up. “Listen, if you guys are done grilling me-- I have a job to do. Dean?”

“Sure thing,” cowboy boots Dean says as he stands up. “I wish you folks good luck.”

“Wait a minute, aren’t you concerned about the fact that there are three different versions of us each all in the same room?” Our Dean asks. “Don’t you think we oughta figure this out?”

The non-related Sam and Dean share a look. Then, cowboy boots Dean reaches for the hotel notepad. “Here’s my number,” he says as he jots it down. “Call if y’all figure anything else out or if y’all got questions.” With that, he and ponytail Sam head out.

“Great,” our Dean huffs once they’re gone. “I guess we’re in their universe. ‘Cause cowboy Dean has my damn car keys.”

“But then how did you guys still have your hotel room?” Teenage Sam asks.

“Maybe we’ve been in Dean Harvelle and Sam Campbell’s universe longer than we realized,” our Sam comments.

“Or maybe our realities are somehow blended,” teenage Sam suggests. “Maybe we aren’t in their world. Maybe all of us are in our own worlds and each others’ at the same time.”

“You gotta lay off the Doctor Who, bud,” second Dean says.

“I’m just saying.”

“Maybe he’s right,” our Sam says, looking at his brother. “I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be the weirdest thing to happen to us.”

“Do you guys have a Bobby?” Teenage Sam asks. “Maybe we could call him and see whose Bobby picks up.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” adult Sam agrees, already reaching for his phone. He makes the call.

We see Bobby in his house, standing on two legs, no wheelchair in sight. He reaches for his phone and picks it up. “Hello.”

“Bobby,” our Sam says, relief in his voice. “It’s me. We have some weird things happening so I wanted to make sure you were there.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Bobby replies, his voice coming through Sam’s phone.

“Yeah, uh, so there’s more than one of--”

“No, I mean, you’re gonna have to be more specific about who ‘me’ is. I don’t recognize your number or your voice.”

Sam’s face falls a little. “Um, it’s Sam,” he says. “Sam Winchester?”

“Sam Winchester? Your voice drop in the two days since we last saw each other?”

“Dammit,” Sam says under his breath. “One second.” he moves the phone away from his face and turns to the Dean and Sam sitting on the couch. “It’s your Bobby, I think.”

“Gimme the phone,” second Dean suggests. Sam hands it over. “Bobby. Hey. It’s Dean. Me and Sammy are sitting in a motel room with ourselves. The Dean looks just like me, but the Sam is like thirty.”

“Twenty six,” adult Sam corrects.

“Twenty six,” Dean repeats. 

“Hold on, what are you saying to me, boy?” Bobby asks, and we see him pace his living room a little. “You found doubles? Are they skinwalkers?”

“I don’t think so,” Dean answers. “Any idea what might be going on?”

“Not in the slightest. I’ll read up and see if I can figure anything out. Wait, why’s the other Sam a grownup?”

“Um, they’re brothers,” Dean says, making a face. He shoots a look between our Dean and our Sam, the former of whom looks a little bit competitive and the latter of whom looks almost guilty. 

“Brothers? Good God.” Bobby exhales, laughing a little bit. “Alright. I’ll call you back if I find anything out.”

Dean hangs up, and hands adult Sam his phone back. 

“So you guys have a Bobby too,” our Dean prompts. “Wonder what else we have in common.”

“John Winchester,” second Dean lists, frowning a little. “Bastard that he is. And the car.”

“You hunters?” adult Sam asks.

“Ha. Not for a long time,” second Dean says. “I fix cars now. I work at Bobby’s shop. We live a few blocks away, actually.”

“That’s kind of awesome,” our Dean comments. Sam shoots him a glance. “Maybe this has something to do with heaven and hell. Michael and Lucifer. The whole apocalypse mess.”

“Apocalypse?” Second Dean asks, both of his eyebrows rising. “What are you talking about?”

Our Sam turns to his brother. “They don’t… have the apocalypse?”

END OF SCENE TWO.

SCENE THREE.

EXT SHOT - MOTEL PARKING LOT. WE SEE OUR SAM AND DEAN LEAVING THE MOTEL ROOM, SAM OUT FIRST. AS DEAN LEAVES, HE GLANCES OVER HIS SHOULDER BACK INTO THE ROOM.

“You two just sit tight, we’ll be right back,” he says pleasantly enough. Then, he closes the door and turns to his brother, his eyes wide. “Okay, what the fuck?”

“I don’t know. I don’t get it.”

“I’ve been to the future,” Dean lists, holding out his thumb. “I’ve been to the past. Fuckin’ twice.” He holds out his index and middle fingers too. “Now there’s-- alternative dimensions? Where I went all Juno and you aren’t my brother? And Ellen Harvelle is my mom? What is this, some pulp sci fi crap?”

“Other Sam has the same mom as us,” Sam says. “Why do we have different parents in the different universes? How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know, man. I guess shit’s going Twilight Zone this week.” Dean shudders a little bit. He wipes at his mouth. “Why are we the ones saddled with the apocalypse, huh? Why can’t Cowboy Dean take that one? Why’s it gotta be us, huh?”

INT SHOT - THE MOTEL ROOM. WE SEE TEENAGE SAM AND TEEN DAD UNIVERSE DEAN STILL SITTING ON THE COUCH, UNTIL DEAN STANDS UP AND STARTS PACING.

“Man, Sammy, I don’t like this. I think we oughta slip away,” he says. “At least go hole up at Bobby’s until this blows over.”

“Blows over? We’re in some kind of parallel universe. I don’t think it’s going to just blow over,” Sam responds.

“Fake Dean said something about the apocalypse,” Dean points out. “Either these dudes are crazy, like, straight jackets and padded rooms crazy, or there’s some serious shit going on. I don’t wanna stick around and figure out which one it is.”

“If we don’t do something about it, we might get stuck here,” Sam says.

“Why are you being so cool about this, anyway? What’s your deal?”

Teenage Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve read about stuff like this in books. Or seen it in shows. We’re probably here for a reason, and we have to figure out what the reason is and do something about it to go back to our normal universe.”

“Who said we aren’t in our normal universe? Take a look around. Does Sioux Falls look any different than normal to you? Anyway, I talked to Bobby on the phone-- _our_ Bobby.” He gestures toward the door. “I think these bozos are the ones who aren’t in their normal universe. Or maybe the Impala sprung a gas leak and we’re hopped up on mustard gas right now, some kind of drug trip.” He pauses, thinking over what he just said. His eyes turn upward for a second. He’s trying to figure out what a dad would say. Then he points to Sam. “You better not be on drugs, kid.”

“I’m not on drugs,” Sam says defensively. “God.”

Our Sam and Dean enter the room again just then, and the Dean who was pacing turns to look at them. He points at them. “It’s been great, boys, but I think I gotta take my kid and get out of here. We don’t want to play your whole apocalypse game or whatever.”

“It’s not a game,” our Sam huffs. “It’s real.”

“Yeah, I think it’s in your best interest to sit back down and let us tell you what’s going on,” Our Dean suggests gravely.

Second Dean regards him with narrowed green eyes. The two Deans look at each other for a moment. Then second Dean frowns a little, and nods. “Fine. We’ll hear you out. Five minutes.”

Everyone sits back down. “We accidentally started the apocalypse,” our Sam begins.

Second Dean blinks. “Come again? _You_ started it?”

“Yeah, whole thing,” our Dean dismisses. “Basically, if we don’t do something, the world’s gonna be taken over by this Croatoan virus and everyone’s gonna become zombies.”

“Like in Roanoke,” teenage Sam pipes up.

Second Dean glances toward him. “Huh?”

“Yeah, like in Roanoke,” our Sam affirms. He looks to second Dean. “It was an early American colony. One of the men who founded it, he left to go back to England to get supplies, and when he came back, the colony was deserted. All that was left of it was a tree with a carving that said Croatoan on it.”

“Okay-- how do you know this is gonna happen?” Second Dean asks.

“This angel dickbag sent me three years into the future, and I saw it,” our Dean says. “Met another version of me. Us. Anyway, it was like the freakin’ Walking Dead out there.”

“Wait, angels?”

Our Sam and Dean each shoot second Dean a look. “Yeah, angels, it’s a whole thing. They’re a bunch of dicks. Other than our one friend. Anyway, Sam and I, my Sam-- we’re supposed to be the vessels for the archangels Michael and Lucifer so they can hash this thing out and end the world. But we aren’t doing it. We’re going to stop it all from happening.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Second Dean asks, eyes narrowing again. “This sounds like your problem. I don’t wanna be involved in your game of cops and robbers and I sure don’t want my kid getting in on it either.”

“You may not have a choice,” our Sam says. “In fact, you--”

Sam is cut off. Teenage Sam and second Dean disappear, the curtains and bedding flapping a little bit as they do.

Our Dean blinks, looking around the room. “Son of a bitch.”

“You think it was Zachariah?” Sam asks, standing up, going to the window as if he’s going to see them outside it.

“Maybe. Dammit.” He fishes in his pocket for his cell phone and makes a call. We hear the call go to voicemail. “Cas, call me when you get this, we got a situation. Someone angel blasted our doubles.” He hangs up. “What if we don’t even have Cas in this universe? That’d just be perfect.”

“Let’s go to Bobby’s,” Sam suggests, ignoring Dean’s comment. “I know he’s not our normal Bobby, but maybe he can help.”

“And he’d probably wanna know they went missing,” Dean agrees.

END OF SCENE THREE.

SCENE FOUR.

EXT SHOT - THE BOYS ARE LEAVING THE MOTEL, HIGH TAILING IT THROUGH THE PARKING LOT TOWARD THE SIDEWALK.

“I miss my damn car,” Dean grunts.

“It’s not far to Bobby’s. Shouldn’t take us too long.”

As if on cue, a slightly dirty black ‘83 Jeep Cherokee stalls along the road next to them. The passenger side window rolls down, and the driver leans over. Sam and Dean both pause. 

We get a closer look. It’s another Dean. A fourth Dean, dressed in a plain black tee shirt, a little smear of something dark along his unshaven jawline. His eyes look a little pink and droopy. There’s some junk in his passenger seat; an empty fast food cup on its side, a couple receipts, a crumpled Red Bull can. “Hey,” he says in good nature. “Doppelgangers, huh?”

“God dammit,” our Dean huffs under his breath, rubbing at his mouth. He surveys his new double. 

“Lemme guess,” Sam says. “Your name’s Dean Winchester.”

The new Dean frowns a little, clearly amarmed. “Wait, you-- Sam? Your hair is all long.”

“Okay, we’re in a thing right now, so I’m gonna cut right to the chase,” our Dean says. “Yeah, I’m you, he’s Sam. Is Sam at least your brother in this one?”

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” The Dean in the stalling car asks. “Of course Sam’s my brother.”

“Okay. Good. So we got some other Sams and Deans going on. But one of the pairs just zapped out of existence or something. So we’re going to Bobby’s to see if he can help out. They’re probably in some shitty angel hotel right now.”

“What are you talking about?” The new Dean asks again. “Uh-- I can give you a ride to Bobby’s, if you want?”

“That’d be great,” Sam says.

New Dean parks the car and reaches over to push the passenger door open.

END OF SCENE FOUR.

SCENE FIVE.

INT - NEW DEAN’S JEEP, DRIVING TOWARD BOBBY’S. SAM IS IN THE BACK SEAT, SITTING AMONG A MESS, AND OUR DEAN IS RIDING SHOTGUN.

“So angels… are real… and there are multiple universes?” New Dean asks from the drivers’ seat.

“Yeah. I mean, you know demons are real, are angels such a stretch? Anyway--”

New Dean cuts Sam off. “Hold up, demons?”

“You… don’t have demons?” Our Dean asks stupidly.

“Um, no,” Jeep Dean says, laughing a little. “I think I’m getting too sober for this conversation, friend.”

“So you’re not a hunter,” Sam says.

“A hunter? No, I’ve never been hunting. I’ve never shot a gun. Killing animals doesn’t really sound fun to me, no offense. I’ll eat ‘em but I don’t need to be the one doing the offing.”

“Well, that’s frickin’ fantastic,” our Dean huffs. “So you don’t know anything about the supernatural? Ghosts, demons, strigas, vampires?”

“I mean, I watched that Twilight movie,” the Dean in the drivers’ seat offers. “And here we are, Casa de Singer.” He parks the car, and all three get out. Our Sam goes to knock on the door.

END SCENE FIVE.

SCENE SIX.

INT - BOBBY'S HOUSE. IT IS MUCH THE SAME WAY WE REMEMBER IT, MAYBE A LITTLE NEATER. WE SEE BOBBY RESPOND TO THE KNOCK, COMING FROM A RESEARCH DESK IN THE LIVING ROOM TO GET THE DOOR. HE OPENS IT, REVEALING OUR SAM AND DEAN, PLUS THE MOST RECENTLY ADDED DEAN. BOBBY SURVEYS THEM FOR A MOMENT, HIS EYES LANDING ON SAM. HE WASN’T EXPECTING THEM, BUT AS ALWAYS, HE’S WELCOMING.

“Christ, but you got tall, kid,” he says with a chuckle. “You’re gonna bump your damn head on the doorway. Come on in. Which one of you is my Dean? Where’s Sammy?”

“Your Dean and Sam disappeared on us,” our Dean says gravely as they enter Bobby’s house.

He closes the door behind them. His friendly demeanor falls. “What?”

“Yeah. We were talking in our motel room, and then they were just gone,” Sam says with his typical heavy sigh. “Just disappeared into thin air.”

“Then who the hell’re you?” Bobby asks, turning to jeep Dean, whose eyes are still a little glazed over.

He offers a shitty grin. “I’m Dean too,” he says, offering his hand. “You're like a dad to me in my normal world. I mean, like the world when you remember me. This whole thing is weird.” He laughs.

Bobby glances back to our Dean. “Is he stoned?”

“Yeah,” Dean says shortly. “His universe, there ain't demons or ghosts. Guess he has time to light up more often than us unlucky bastards.”

“They don’t have the apocalypse either,” Sam sighs.

“I’m sorry, apocalypse?”

“Yeah, it's a whole thing,” Dean says, waving his hand. “Look, you know anything about angels?”

“What are you, a pair of old ladies at church?”

Jeep Dean laughs. “Aw man. Bobby, you should be on SNL.”

Everyone shoots him a slightly annoyed glance.

“I didn’t think angels were real,” Bobby continues.

“Well, they are, and most of ‘em are dicks, and we think they took your Sam and Dean. We’ve been dealing with them a lot lately. They want us to be vessels for Michael and Lucifer-- it’s like demonic possession, but they need permission,” Sam explains patiently. “I think it has to be us, so I’m not sure what they would want with our doubles, but it seems like that's what's going on.”

“I’m gonna call my brother,” jeep Dean says, pulling an old flip phone out of his pocket and wandering into the kitchen for space. “He’s gonna wanna meet you guys. This is so crazy.”

Bobby ignores him. “Those boys are family to me,” he says, looking our Dean in the eyes. “If you're anything like them at all, you know what that means.” Dean’s head tilts slightly down and then back up.

“Yes, sir,” Sam says.

“Don't yes, sir me. That's some John Winchester bullshit. Those boys are my family, and they’ve been through enough. It ain’t been easy for Dean, being a daddy since he was old enough to drive, or to get away from his old man and get distance from the life-- but they’ve made it work, and I’m not gonna let them lose that. Now, I don’t know you two, but seems like you know me. We’re gonna work together to get them back, and so help me, we’re gonna succeed.”

Sam and Dean both nod. By their faces, we can tell they absolutely mean it.

“So tell me everything you know about angels,” Bobby finishes.

END SCENE SIX.

SCENE SEVEN.

EXT SHOT - MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, EMPTY ROAD. WE SEE A DEAN, THE ONE IN A GREEN PLAID SHIRT, LOOKING AROUND CONFUSED. 

“Sam?” he calls out. “Sammy!”

He is met with silence.

“Motherfucker,” he says, an edge to his voice we aren't used to hearing in our normal Dean. “Sam!”

He looks scared-- almost sick to his stomach. He notices a road sign, and zeroes in on it; apparently he recognizes it, because he immediately knows which direction to start walking. He's moving fast, looking around as he does. He checks his phone; zero bars, he can’t call anyone.

We hear a familiar flutter of angel wings just off screen. It clearly startles second Dean.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel's grave voice comes. Dean jumps as he turns toward the voice.

“Son of a bitch,” he exclaims. “Where did you come from?”

“I don’t understand the question,” Castiel says. His dark blue eyes scan Dean, narrowing in concentration. “Wait, you… you are not Dean Winchester.”

“Sure I am,” he dismisses. “Who the hell are you?”

“I am Castiel. An angel of the lord. Have you hit your head?”

“No, dammit, you just got the wrong Dean. There are at least three of us running around, there’s some Twilight Zone crap going on,” he answers impatiently. “Look, you know anything about where my son might be?”

“Your son,” Cas repeats. “Something is not right.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut the celestial crap, my kid is missing,” Dean says impatiently. “Just poof. Into thin air. I was with him in a motel room, then we were both in this weird fancy room for less than a second, now I'm a few miles outside Sioux Falls with no goddamn cell reception. You’re the angel fake Sam and fake Dean are friends with, right? You gotta help me. He’s just a kid.”

“I will help you,” Castiel affirms with a slow nod. “I think I know where he is. I don’t understand why you would have been brought there briefly on your way here, though. That isn’t necessary. An angel is able to transport two people to two different places simultaneously.” 

“I dunno, just to rub it in my face that they were taking my damn kid?” He posits, throwing his hands in the air. “Look, we gotta hurry, okay? He’s probably freaked out. And if those angel bastards hurt him, so help me I will burn this entire fucking planet down to its bones.”

“There’s no need for arson,” Castiel says seriously. He reaches two fingers to Dean’s forehead. There’s just enough time for Dean to make a face at him before Cas transports them.

But they land right back where they were standing before, after only a second. Dean looks around, disoriented. “I can’t get into the green room,” Castiel says, frowning. “They’ve blocked it off somehow.”

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean huffs.

He frowns harder. This is eerily familiar, but there’s something off about it. This is not his Dean. “Did you just call me Cas?”

“Huh? I guess,” Dean says dismissively. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“I would like to find my Dean,” Cas monotones. “It’s likely he would be able to help, if anyone can. I was trying to get to him just now when I found you instead. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“The motel, I guess. That’s where we all were before.”

Without bothering to respond, Castiel puts two fingers on Dean’s forehead again, and the pair of them disappear with a rustle of angel wings. The camera stays framed on the empty stretch of South Dakota backroads just long enough for the brush to settle.

END OF SCENE SEVEN.

SCENE EIGHT.

INT - BOBBY’S HOUSE. WE SEE OUR SAM AND DEAN, THIS VERSION OF BOBBY, AND JEEP DEAN IN BOBBY’S LIVING ROOM. BOBBY AND THE REGULAR WINCHESTERS ARE SITTING AROUND A DESK, A LAPTOP OPEN IN FRONT OF SAM, DEAN’S PHONE UP TO HIS EAR. JEEP DEAN IS SITTING ON A NEARBY COUCH.

“So we can summon the angel who took the boys?” Bobby asks.

“Maybe,” Sam answers. 

“I wish Cas would just show up already,” Dean huffs, hanging up his attempted call. “He still won’t answer my call. He must not have cell service.”

“We can summon any angel, but we have to know which angel we’re trying to talk to,” Sam elaborates, ignoring his brother. 

Before Bobby can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Jeep Dean hops up. “That’ll be my brother,” he says.

Sam glances in that direction as if by instinct, and we watch him open the door. In walks a fourth Sam, dressed in jogging pants and a tee shirt, his hair notably shorter than any of the other Sams. And with him, dressed in leggings and an athletic tank top, her long blonde hair in a loose braid over her shoulder, is Jessica Moore.

Our Sam’s eyes widen, his lips barely parting. His brother’s eyes are on him.

“What was so important we had to come over here, Dean?” Athleisure Sam asks. “We were on our way to the gym.”

Jess notices the other Sam and Dean before her partner does. Her eyebrows nudge upward. “Uh, what’s going on here? Is this some kind of… long lost twin thing?”

Our Sam gives a weird chuckle, half amused, half devastated by Jess’ quip.

“Crazy, right?” Jeep Dean asks.

“What the hell,” athleisure Sam exhales, looking back and forth between our Dean and our Sam, who looks like he’s on the verge of tears. 

“Jess,” he manages, voice quiet and weird. “You look…” he shakes his head. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Um, thanks,” she says, glancing back to her own Sam for a second after she speaks. “Who… are you?”

“I’m Sam,” he says. “I mean-- I’m him. From a different… universe, or something.”

She reaches to tuck a loosed strand of hair behind her ears with her left hand. We catch sight of a sizeable diamond engagement ring on her finger. “This is really weird,” she says with an uncomfortable laugh.

“No kidding,” jeep Dean agrees. “Thought you’d wanna meet your double, Sammy.”

“Ugh, don’t call me Sammy, I’m an adult,” athleisure Sam groans. “No, seriously, are you guys… our long lost cousins or something?”

“Fraid not, pal, we’re you,” our Dean answers impatiently. 

“And there’s another Sam and Dean out there who vanished into thin air,” Bobby interrupts. “So if you boys aren’t gonna help us figure out what happened to them, I’m afraid I gotta cut this family reunion short.”

“We should go, anyway,” athleisure Sam says, sliding his arm around Jessica’s shoulders. He seems kind of in denial about what’s going on, and kind of creeped out, like he’s trying to slip away casually. “This is… really freaking weird. Uh, see you later, Bobby. Dean.”

“I’ll get outta your hair too, then,” half-stoned Dean agrees. “Good luck with the angel summoning or whatever it is you guys are doing.” He does finger guns in his double’s direction, and then he leaves with his brother and Jess.

The camera focuses back on our Dean, whose eyes are on his brother again. “You good, Sammy?”

“Yeah,” he says in a kind of choked voice. He wipes his mouth, much like the movement we see Dean do anytime he’s upset. “Yeah,” he says again, as if he’ll convince himself.

Dean claps him on the shoulder a few times. Then he turns back to Bobby. “Kay, so we can summon the angel here. I just gotta draw a sigil. But like we’ve been saying, they’re dicks, and there’s no guarantee they’ll do shit for us. In fact, we oughta be careful with it, ‘cause I’ve seen angels burn people’s eyeballs up just for kicks or on accident.”

“Son of a bitch,” Bobby huffs. “I’m not that good of a damn hunter. I go after demons and your average run of the mill monsters. This sounds like some delicate crap.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. “But we know what we’re doing. If I could just get Cas to pick up the damn phone, he could help us.”

“Well, in the meantime, we better pursue alternative options, ‘cause the longer we wait, the more danger those boys might get into.”

Dean nods gravely. Sam still looks devastated, dissociated from the conversation, staring at the door Jess-- not his Jess, but still a version of Jess-- had disappeared through.

END OF SCENE EIGHT.

SCENE NINE.

EXT SHOT - THE MOTEL PARKING LOT. CASTIEL AND GREEN FLANNEL SHIRT DEAN ARE JUST LEAVING THE MOTEL ROOM, THE LATTER LOOKING INCREASINGLY FRUSTRATED. CAS GLANCES AROUND.

“Dammit,” Dean huffs. He kicks at a rock on the pavement. “Where the fuck is everybody?”

“We’ll find them,” Castiel reassures him. “Normally I don’t have a problem figuring out where Dean Winchester is. But right now, it seems like I can only hone in on you.”

Dean exhales hard, shaking his head. “Then I guess we go to Bobby’s. Wait-- what the hell?”

His eyes are fixed on something just outside of the frame in the near distance. Castiel’s gaze follows it too, and once his eyes land on whatever Dean is looking at, all the color drains from his face.

“No,” he says quietly. 

He and Dean both approach the object of their gaze. The frame shifts, and we see Dean Harvelle and Sam Campbell, splayed on the ground in the middle of the motel parking lot, just in front of the Impala. Their eyes have been burned to a crisp. They are clearly dead.

“No,” Cas says again, a little louder. “This isn’t right.”

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes.

With a ruffle of angel wings, someone appears just outside the frame.

“I thought that might convince you,” Zachariah’s voice comes. Cas and Dean turn toward its source, and we see him too, from an over-the-shoulder shot from Dean’s perspective.

“Son of a bitch,” Castiel mutters, a phrase he clearly co-opted from his Dean.

“Nice to see you too, Castiel,” Zachariah says.

“Do you have my kid?” Dean demands.

“Oh, yes. I gave you a sneak peek, remember? We have little Sammy upstairs. But don’t worry. He’s safe.”

“Hand him over or I’ll make you really fucking sorry really fucking fast,” Dean growls.

“That’s not a very nice way to speak to someone you’ve just met,” Zachariah chides, wagging his finger at Dean. 

“Listen to me, you bald motherfucker,” Dean says harshly. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“A washed up hunter who was bested by an expired condom?” Zachariah hazards. “Forgive me if I’m not scared of you.” He kicks at Sam Campbell’s dead body. “You see, this is what happens when you try to stand up to me. This is what happens when you say no. These Winchesters-- and they are Winchesters, both of them, thanks to John Winchester’s libido and lack of faithfulness to his wife-- they didn’t care about each other enough to respond to my offer. They didn’t even know they were brothers, bless their little hearts. They thought they were just hunting partners. Ha. If only they knew.” He shakes his head slowly, as if mulling the situation over. “But you-- you have an even worse Achilles’ heel than any of the other Deans I could get my hands on, don’t you? Because your Sam isn’t your brother. He’s your child. And he’s all you have. So I think the ball is in my court.”

“I’ll rip you to shreds the second I find out how.”

“I don’t think you will,” Zachariah says. “I think I’m going to ask you a question. And I think you’re going to say yes.”

Castiel touches Dean’s shoulder. Immediately, they are gone. Zachariah is alone in the parking lot with dead cowboy Dean and ponytail Sam. 

END OF SCENE NINE.

SCENE TEN.

INT SHOT - BOBBY’S HOUSE. OUR SAM AND DEAN ARE STILL SITTING AROUND THE DESK WITH BOBBY. NOT MUCH TIME HAS PASSED SINCE WE LAST SAW THEM.

CASTIEL AND SECOND DEAN APPEAR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM. DEAN ALMOST FALLS OVER, REACHING FOR A DOOR FRAME TO STEADY HIMSELF.

“You tryin’ to give me a damn heart attack?” Bobby asks, clearly startled.

“You can’t say yes, Dean,” Castiel says very seriously to second Dean, ignoring Bobby. “No matter what.”

“Cas,” our Dean says, standing up, all but running over to the angel. “I’ve been trying to reach you. What the hell is going on?”

“That bastard has my kid,” second Dean says, almost a whimper. 

“Zachariah,” Castiel explains, frowning hard at our Dean. “This isn’t good, Dean.”

END OF SCENE TEN.

SCENE ELEVEN.

INT SHOT - BOBBY’S HOUSE. BOBBY AND SECOND DEAN ARE IN THE BACKGROUND, HAVING A CONVERSATION IN THE KITCHEN WHICH WE CAN’T HEAR. WE SEE SECOND DEAN RUB AT HIS MOUTH. THE BRIEF GLANCE WE GET OF HIM SHOWS THAT HE’S UPSET. THEN, OUR SAM AND DEAN COME INTO FOCUS, SITTING ON BOBBY’S COUCH, WITH CASTIEL PACING SLOWLY IN FRONT OF THEM.

“There’s gotta be some way,” our Sam says. 

“Yeah, can’t you do like, some divine angelic overwrite?” Dean asks. “You found me that one time.”

“I’m not sure,” Cas says pensively. “Zachariah must have used some kind of spell to block me out.”

“Are we even sure kid Sam is in the green room?” Dean asks.

“Your counterpart described it to me. He was there for a moment too.”

Dean sighs slowly, rubbing at his mouth, mirroring the other Dean’s recent movement. 

“He wants that version of Dean to consent to being Michael’s vessel,” Castiel goes on. “He was just about to ask. I took Dean out of the situation before he could. I feared he would say yes, since his child is on the line and he doesn’t understand the implications of the action.”

“Don’t call him Dean. Don’t call someone else Dean,” our Dean complains. 

“What do you want me to call him, then?” Cas asks impatiently. 

Dean ignores the question, taking a swig from the coffee cup in front of him.

“How can other Dean be the vessel when the apocalypse isn’t even happening in his universe?” Sam asks, ignoring the bickering.

“I’m not sure,” Cas answers. “I don’t know if it’s even a possibility. Maybe Zachariah is trying to convince you two to say yes in order to save your alternates. It is well known among the angels that Dean Winchester is a righteous man.” He affords Sam a brief, almost apologetic flit of his navy blue eyes. “Or maybe there’s a way to swap your places somehow. Send you two to the other world, bring the alternate Winchester brothers here.”

“Okay, this is all very fascinating, but I didn’t take Multiverse 101,” Dean half-snaps. “So let’s stop with the damn theorizing and figure out what we can _do_.”

Bobby and second Dean wander into the room, the latter looking a little sick. “Aren’t there any other angels we can ask, if you don’t know? No offense, Cas.”

“I don’t think any other angels particularly consider themselves allies of the Winchesters,” Cas answers. “But I’ll figure something out.”

With that, he disappears into nothing.

“Great,” our Dean huffs. “Frickin’ fantastic. I love when he does that.”

“Quit your bellyaching,” Bobby instructs. “ ‘I don’t know’ ain’t an option right now. So you two better start thinking.”

Our Dean reaches for his coffee cup again, closing his eyes in frustration for a second. Sam pushes back his hair. 

A moment of uneasy silence hangs. Then, out of nowhere, Castiel reappears. Bobby and second Dean both jump a little, startled.

“Jesus Christ,” second Dean exhales.

“Not quite,” our Dean quips. “Cas, what’s goin’ on? Why are you back so quick?”

“I found an answer,” he explains, looking from his Dean to the second Dean. “A possible answer. A loophole.”

“A loophole?” Our Dean asks, eyebrows raising.

“Something Zachariah didn’t consider.” He turns to second Dean. “You raised your child single-handedly, is that correct?”

“Uh, guess so,” Dean allows. “I mean, my dad was around back in the day, not like he helped, uh-- and Bobby helped me out sometimes--”

“But you are his only parent. For all intents and purposes?”

“Yeah?”

“Normally this spell requires blood from the person’s mother, but I think it might work with yours,” Cas explains. “These things, they aren’t quite as biological as one might assume.”

“You saying I’m a mother?” second Dean asks, one of his eyebrows nudging upward.

“For all intents and purposes,” Cas repeats impatiently. “Can I have your blood?”

“Cas, people skills,” our Dean cuts in.

“Screw people skills, you can have whatever you want if it’ll get us to Sam,” second Dean says, swiping his palm through the air. He rolls up the sleeve of his flannel shirt. “Whatever you need, trenchcoat.”

Cas makes eye contact with our Dean, who understands the silent message, and reaches into his pocket for a knife. He offers it to Cas. Cas takes it and slices into second Dean’s arm. He wets his fingers and draws a sigil on Bobby’s wall in the blood. He says a few words in Enochian. Then, he and second Dean disappear.

END SCENE ELEVEN.

SCENE TWELVE.

INT SHOT - THE GREEN ROOM. IT’S DECKED OUT THE SAME AS LAST TIME WE SAW IT. THERE’S AN ICE BUCKET FULL OF CAPRI SUN AND A BIG BOWL OF FLAVOR BLASTED GOLD FISH. TEENAGE SAM IS SITTING AT THE TABLE, HIS CHEEK RESTING ON HIS FIST, LOOKING DEJECTED. WE SIT WITH HIM FOR A SECOND, AND THEN WE SEE CASTIEL AND SECOND DEAN APPEAR A FOOT AWAY FROM SAM WITH A FLUTTER OF ANGEL WINGS. BEFORE ANYONE CAN SAY ANYTHING, AN ELECTRICAL PULSE GOES THROUGH CAS’ FOREHEAD, AND HE CRUMBLES TO THE FLOOR, UNCONSCIOUS.

“Dad!” Sam exclaims, hopping up, running over. They hug briefly.

“Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?” Dean asks as they pull away, surveying Sam’s face, messing up his hair.

“No,” Sam replies. “They said they weren’t going to hurt me and they were going to let me out as soon as you say yes.”

“Say yes to what?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me.”

Dean exhales slowly, shaking his head. He glances to where Cas is laying. “Well, I think that dude was our ride outta here, so… here’s hoping the feathered bastard wakes back up. Is it the bald dude holding you here?”

Sam nods. “And a couple others.”

“Frickin’ great. Cas told me not to say yes no matter what, but I don’t even know what they want me for.”

“Dean Winchester,” Zachariah’s voice comes. The camera shifts, and we see him standing off to the side of the table. He begins pacing. “I guess you foiled my little plan. How did you find this place?”

“Screw you, that’s how.”

“Just as eloquent as your counterpart, I see,” Zachariah comments.

“Tell me what you want, egg head,” Dean says, his voice dropping lower and deeper. “No more funny business.”

“Alright,” Zachariah says. “Fair enough. I want you to agree to be archangel Michael’s vessel.”

Dean blinks. “What? Like, demonic possession?”

“Angelic possession,” he corrects. “You see, we can’t get the Winchesters we want. So you’re second best. Little Sammy is too young to be Lucifer’s vessel, I’m afraid-- being possessed by an angel would wear his body out in a matter of hours. I’ll have to keep working on that part. But as far as Michael goes, you-- you’re a great plan B.”

“What, for the apocalypse?” Dean asks dumbly. Sam is standing just barely behind him, looking nervous. As if he senses this, Dean sets his hand on Sam’s thin shoulder for a moment.

“Yeah, for the apocalypse,” Zachariah half-mocks. “Let me guess, high school dropout, just like most of the other Deans?”

“If I say yes,” Dean says, face grave, “how long will it take? How long do you need my body for?”

“Dean--”

“Sammy, I’m just weighing our options.”

“Well, unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to return to your normal life,” Zachariah says. “But we can offer you something better. We can offer you eternal paradise in heaven.”

“So leave my kid on his own? In return for-- an extended stay at an all-inclusive resort? No, thanks.”

“I can sweeten the deal,” Zachariah says. “Your father, John Winchester-- he’s made some unfortunate choices in his life.”

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Dean snorts.

“He sold his soul to a demon, Dean.”

Dean’s green eyes widen a little. He glances down at Sam, who also looks uncomfortable.

“Two years ago, now. He only has eight years left. Then it’s eternal damnation for daddy dearest,” Zachariah continues. “But if you say yes to me, I’ll have him sent upstairs to you instead. I can’t spare his life but I can keep him out of hell.”

“He sold his soul,” Dean repeats, shaking his head. “For what? Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.” He half-chuckles. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m not gonna do shit for that sorry son of a bitch. Whatever they’re gonna do to him, I promise you he had it coming.”

Zachariah’s face falls. He hadn’t calculated for this.

Just then, Castiel stirs. He stands up quietly, making momentary eye contact with Dean. Then, he disappears, and reappears right behind Zachariah.

“Castiel,” Zachariah says, turning around. “I thought I told you to take a nap.” He reaches for Castiel’s forehead, but Cas catches his arm and twists it, hard. We hear the bone snap.

It isn’t enough to stop him, but it’s enough to buy enough time for Castiel to reach for Sam and Dean. They all three dissolve out of the green room.

END SCENE TWELVE.

SCENE THIRTEEN.

INT SHOT - BOBBY’S HOUSE. REGULAR SAM AND DEAN ARE STILL IN THE LIVING ROOM, ALONG WITH BOBBY, WHO IS SCRUBBING THE BLOOD SIGIL OFF HIS WALL WITH A RAG. CASTIEL, SECOND DEAN, AND TEENAGE SAM MATERIALIZE. 

“Cas, you okay?” Our Dean asks immediately.

Before answering, Cas touches teenage Sam’s chest with his left hand, second Dean’s with his right. There’s a stirring of gold at their cores, and they both flinch hard. Sam cries out in pain.

But it’s over quickly.

“What the hell was that?” Second Dean asks, pressing a hand to his ribs, glancing at teenage Sam. “That hurt like a bitch.”

“I apologize for the pain,” Castiel says almost impatiently. “It was a necessary spell to ensure Zachariah can’t find you.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“He carved your ribs up,” our Sam pipes up. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You two need to get out of here,” Cas suggests. “Where can you go?”

“Uh, our house?” Second Dean hazards.

“Where is that?”

“Couple blocks away.”

Castiel shakes his head. “No. Too close.”

“Wait, what if we can find a way to put the universes back in their places?” Sam asks. “Then we can just send them home and Zachariah won’t be able to find them to bring them back here.”

“I don’t know how,” Cas answers.

“I got a contact. Occult historian at Cambridge,” Bobby pipes up. “It’s only about nine p.m. across the pond so maybe she’ll pick up the phone.” He heads into the next room, dialing on his cell phone.

“You thought you could outrun me that easily?” Zachariah asks, wandering into the living room from the kitchen. “I know your haunts. You may not be the standard-issue Winchester boys, but you have enough in common.”

“Son of a bitch,” our Dean huffs. 

“Do not touch them,” Castiel instructs.

“I’m just here to talk.”

“Then let’s talk,” our Sam says coldly. “How about you leave the other Sams and Deans out of it? This is our fight. They have nothing to do with this universe or the apocalypse.”

“Alright,” Zachariah says.

Our Dean blinks. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he affirms with a shrug. “I’m not sure how well it would work anyway. I’ll set everything back how it was. Everyone goes to their own universe. Even Dean Harvelle and Sam Campbell.”

Dean and Sam share a glance. Sam sort of shrugs. Dean’s eyebrows nudge up and then back down.

“My point has been made. It’s clear I was, as it were, barking up the wrong tree. I’ll send them back.” He takes a step toward second Dean and teenage Sam.

“Wait, hold on a minute,” our Dean instructs gruffly, holding his arm out between Zachariah and their counterparts. “How do I know you ain’t bluffing?”

“I’ll send Castiel to their universe with them for thirty seconds to confirm it,” he says.

“Fine,” Castiel agrees, reaching for our Dean’s arm, pushing it aside. “Let’s go.”

Zachariah, teenage Sam, and second Dean disappear.

The boys glance at each other.

A moment later, Bobby comes into the room, turning the wheels on his wheelchair with his hands. He starts a little when he sees the boys. “No need to knock, I guess, just let yourselves right on in,” he says sarcastically. “You boys trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Bobby,” Sam says, his eyes moving around the room. “Were you-- do you know what was--?”

“What were you just doing?” Dean takes over. 

“Taking my damn trash out,” Bobby says with a shrug.

“So you’ve just been here all day?” Sam asks.

“What’s with the third degree? I’ve been manning phones for Rufus.”

“Huh,” Sam exhales.

“What’s with you boys?”

“Long story,” Dean chuckles.

END OF SCENE THIRTEEN.

SCENE FOURTEEN.

EXT SHOT - MOTEL PARKING LOT. SAM AND DEAN, OUR SAM AND DEAN, THE ONLY ONES LEFT IN THIS UNIVERSE, ARE LOADING THEIR STUFF INTO THE IMPALA. DEAN LOOKS FINE. SAM’S EYEBROWS ARE KNIT TOGETHER UNEASILY. HE HESITATES BEFORE CLOSING THE BACK DOOR OF THE CAR.

“What?” Dean asks, glancing around. 

“Huh?”

“You’re all mopey. You haven’t said a word since we left Bobby’s,” Dean elaborates. “What’s your deal? You grossed out about the thing where I was your dad? ‘Cause I gotta admit, that creeped me out a little.”

“No,” Sam says vacantly. He shakes his head, exhaling loudly. “I don’t know. Long day.”

“Yeah,” Dean allows.

“I mean, it was supposed to be a day off, since we finished that haunting thing Bobby called us here for,” Sam says. “But instead we got pulled right back into it.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the gig,” Dean points out. “We can take a day or two now though. You wanna go hustle some pool in Minneapolis? We can probably make it there by dark if we leave now.”

Sam doesn’t respond, his eyes turned toward the ground. After a beat of quiet, he sighs again, shaking his head. “Just bummed me out a little,” he admits. “That’s all.”

“Oh,” Dean says, his shoulders straightening up a little. “You mean… seeing Jess?”

“Yeah.”

“Fair thing to get bummed about.”

“It’s just--” Sam looks up, half laughing, his eyes a little glassy. He shakes his head again. “Reminds me how my life could have been. I’d kill to hit the gym with her on a weekend. Be able to give her a ring like that.”

“Sam--” Dean trails off. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t really relate to this. He’s never truly been in love with anyone.

“It just got me thinking that Jessica was my best case scenario,” Sam says.

Dean pales. He regards his brother for a moment, his eyebrows coming down, narrowing his eyes in sorrow. His jaw is tight.

Sam sighs again, reaching for the passenger door. “Let’s get outta here.” He pulls it closed.

Dean stays standing for a moment, still looking apologetic. Then, he gets into the car too.

END OF THE EPISODE.

ROLL THE CREDITS.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading :)) please leave a comment, and dm me on discord to join my supernatural server! s'nat#4736
> 
> this fic goes along with "clandestine connection" by theliteral trash https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143360


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